Rules of Engagement
by WRITES
Summary: She must always carry herself with grace, elegance, and poise. She may not speak unless spoken to. She may not address any males of the family directly. She is not to be curious or inquire about things outside of what is spoken. But the mask is slipping.
1. Chapter 1: Morning

Chapter 1: Morning

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He sat with a perfectly erect back, sipping lightly at his tea. It was black. No sugar, no cream, no honey. Just black. There were two water crackers beside him placed neatly on a china saucer. He did not eat them. They were just decorations. He casually turned the page in his newspaper which had been folded into a rectangle early this morning, all the corners artfully pressed, and placed in front of him at breakfast. She sat at the other end, finishing her tea, and examining the threads in the tablecloth. Her tea was a creamy brown and filled with sugar. She had nibbled politely on one of her crackers. They did not exchange any words.

When he finished his reading, he would rise, nod his head at her, leave, and only then was she allowed to stand and exit after. He would stand by the door, have his outer robes placed upon his shoulders by elves and he would leave, not even telling her he was or wishing her a nice day. Sometimes, if it was payday, he would ask her how her day had been.

"How was your day?" he would ask, in a completely uninterested tone.

"Wonderful, dear, and yours?" she would respond, attentive and excited to hear his reply.

"Good." he would say, and the conversation would end.

She sometimes imagined him saying something different, or asking other questions. Then she would remember herself and that she must never ask more from her husband than the basic necessities of life. Food, shelter, and nice things to wear.

A house elf would then escort her to the outside where she would watch the gardeners trim the hedges, reshape the ficus whose form changed with the seasons. In spring, it was simply Mr. Malfoy. In summer, it was Mr. Malfoy with a suit. In fall, it was Mr. Malfoy with a wand. In winter, it was Mr. Malfoy with a hat. They carefully picked fruit from its proper trees and clean up the fallen. They did all their work daily, as the Malfoy property was quite large in its expanse, and without the use of magic. They were muggles, after all. She would turn away when the gardeners would smile in the presence of the house elf. But sometimes, when the elf was distracted, she would smile back.

While he was gone, she would walk slowly around the house and change her outfit, perhaps have her hair redone, or sometimes write pretend letters from her husband to herself. In her letters, he actually loved her.


	2. Chapter 2: Dinner

Chapter 2: Dinner

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The only audible sound in the room was the soft clinking of forks touching plates and glasses being placed upon the table, lifted, swirled, and set down again. They were eating pork. It was positively delicious and her hand clenched beneath the table in hunger. She had a small portion of the meat on her plate, and she was determined to finish every last ounce, for she was not to have any more. It would be most unbecoming of her to eat more than her husband and she need not gain any pounds. The candles glowed softly in the room.

"My parents are having a small gathering next week. We are expected to attend. I will be wearing the new robes I purchased yesterday. They are blue." he said to her from the other end of the table, the distance between them making his voice very difficult to hear.

What was he wearing?

"Of course, dear." she replied. She had barely heard him but responded as she usually did. He rarely asked anything that required more than an appraising look and some words that made it clear she had understood.

"What will you wear?" he asked, not raising his voice only slightly.

"A dress, darling."

"What color?" he asked, lowering his fork and raising his eyes.

She carefully lifted her glass, sparing her a few moments to think, and she swallowed thickly. The candle holder in front of her seemed hazy for a moment, and vertically inscribed were the words _Blue, my love. _She put down her glass.

"Blue, my love." she responded, a wave of calm passing over her. Two large, green orbs glowed in the corner behind him. She nodded her head in appreciation. The elf blinked in response then stepped back into the darkness silently.

He waved his hand flippantly and the food disappeared. The house elves were heard adding the final touches to the dessert and his hand waved again. The luscious cakes and puddings they typically enjoyed appeared and she was served by a floating spoon. Hardly two scoops of rice pudding. She picked up her spoon and took only the smallest bites, trying to preserve the flavor seeing as she was given so little. Mr. Malfoy had a rather large serving of cake and she stared enviously at his dessert. She was rather peeved tonight, seeing as they had prepared her favorite meal and it was so quickly taken away and now she had only a handful of dessert. Normally it would not faze her in the slightest, but tonight, she was peeved.


	3. Chapter 3: Socialite

Chapter 3: Socialite

It was a warm, humid evening and the manor was alive and bright with merriment. Guests paraded around the rooms clothed in delicate silks and lavish embroidery, displaying their wealth and status. She fanned herself and breathed out softly, her small lacy fan providing minimal cooling. It was terribly warm in her dress and the tightness of her laces would surely leave deep impression on her back. Mrs. Malfoy had taken her away from the guests to speak privately in a corner of the room. She inconspicuously wiped small droplets of perspiration from her hairline. She caught only a few of the words Mrs. Malfoy spoke, the heat making her a tad lightheaded.

"So I believe it would be best to serve the sherry after the men have settled and had their whiskey. What do you think Georgine?" said Mrs. Malfoy, pronouncing her name in the French fashion.

She sometimes wondered if she only pronounced it that way because she had already forgotten her true name.

"That seems quite wise; you know how the misters are once they have had their strong drinks." Georgiana replied, quickening the rate at which she fanned herself.

"Well we best return to the party, we need not worry anyone." Mrs. Malfoy said as she led her back into the crowd.

She quickly hid the fan in a secret pocket in her dress, and placed a delicate smile upon her face, linking arms with Mr. Malfoy.

"Ah, this must be her!" said once of his friends as she entered into the circle they had formed.

"Yes," Mr. Malfoy responded and smiled widely at the man and looked down at her.

"She is quite darling, if I do say so myself." Said a woman beside the man, who she assumed was the man's wife.

She merely smiled and placed her hand coyly over her face. She had never expected such compliments.

They went around the room, her hand placed gently on his arm and his hand over it, greeting all the guests and asking small things here and there. She appraised the crowd and smiled knowingly in her head at its immense size. One must never assume a "small gathering" will be less than a hundred.

He walked her slowly to a pair near the hors d'ourves and he reminded her of their names.

"Mr. Parkinson and his wife Pansy." he whispered through his delicate smile.

She hummed in response and extended her hand to Mr. Parkinson as they approached.

"How grand to see you Draco! It has been so long since we have spared a moment to converse. Hogwarts has not heard us in a few years." said the man as he lifted his head from her hand, having kissed only the air above it.

She curtsied politely at his wife and Mrs. Parkinson did the same. It was modest chatter and then they moved to another pair. In the brief moments when Mr. Malfoy was distracted with conversation, she looked back at the couple whom they had finished with. Hidden from the view of others, their fingers were linked ever so slightly, and they seemed alive with excitement at their little mischief. They turned their heads and a small blush rose to the woman and she immediately withdrew her hand. The man gave a bashful grin and walked away with his wife. She would think of it no more, charming if nothing at all, and turned back to her husband. If others had seen it, the couple would never be invited again.

As the night drew to a close, they stood at the entrance, expressing their wishes and good nights and all that sort. She smiled at each guest and felt very proud. Mr. Malfoy the elder nodded his head in approval at her from the opposite side and whispered in Mrs. Malfoy's ear. They both smiled approvingly. This was good. Approval was good.


	4. Chapter 4: Accomodate

Montaielli is pronounced Mon-thai(like the food)-ehlee

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Chapter 4: Unsettling

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She counted the amount of stitches in the row to assure herself that she had sewn evenly. Ruffling the shawl, she noticed a lapse in her stitching and she sighed in defeat. It was the second time she had sewn the rip. Murmuring to herself, she took her scissors and was about to begin snipping the threads when she heard the clicking of his shoes in the hall.

He had clearly been looking for her and squinted his eyes as he approached; trying to see what it was she was holding. His eyes widened and he walked briskly towards her. She dropped her things and cupped her hands in her lap.

"What is this?" he asked fiercely, grabbing the shawl from her. He flashed the stitching in her face.

"I was only fixing a small tear, nothing terribly large." She said meekly, casting her eyes downwards.

"You're sewing clothes? What are you, a _slave_?" he replied scathingly. He threw the shawl onto the floor and snapped his fingers. She immediately stood and curtsied before him. His sudden anger disturbed her internally and she gripped tightly at her skirt so her trembles would not be visible.

"We have various house elves, Gi. I do not _ever_ want to see you doing servant's work again." he told her before exiting through the hall's maple doors.

She lifted herself and wiped at her tears with a small handkerchief. Attempting to calm herself and regain her composure, she decided to take a walk around the gardens. After admiring the flower patio, she moved towards the apple orchard. She did not venture far, however, as it was quite inappropriate for her to be without escort.

Shortly after eating a few apples, her intense hunger almost painful, a house elf addressed her and bowed low to the ground. She turned and nodded her head.

"The Master would like to see you." he said to her, looking up only slightly.

"Very well." she responded, smoothing the intricate pleating in her skirt and reopening her umbrella before stepping from out of the tree's shade.

She knocked lightly on the door's smooth surface. It was stained a dark cherry and only added to the drear of the home.

"Come in," he said, his voice clear and loud.

She entered and shut the door quietly behind her. He neither offered her a seat nor some tea from the kettle by his desk.

Without looking up from his papers, he tossed a card to the edge of his desk. He waved her forward and pointed to it. She stepped cautiously towards the desk and retrieved the card.

"Raphael Montaielli is stopping by for a short visit tomorrow along with his wife and daughter Claire."

"How wonderful, darling." She replied, scratching the surface of the card with her fingernail. It made barely a whisper of noise. She thought of the way he said the girl's name... _Claire..._ the 'C' delicately rolling off his tongue.

"That will be all." he said, flipping a page and scribbling a few notes on it.

She exited with a small curtsy and leaned against the wooden door. She lifted the card to her face.

_You will be accommodated._

She crushed the paper in her hand. It seemed Ms. Montaielli was more than a guest.


	5. Chapter 5: Burned

Chapter 5: Burned

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Mr. Montaielli's thunderous voice could be heard from the study room where he and Mr. Malfoy were conversing. The house elf had entered various times to serve them liquor and it had set them both in a very boisterous mood. Georgiana smiled quaintly at Mrs. Montaielli and Claire as the two men laughed. She sipped politely at her tea and proceeded to ask a few questions.

"So, what brings you to England Mrs. Montaielli?"

"Well, you know that the business is expanding and Mr. Montaielli decided that it would be wise to make a partnership with Mr. Malfoy. That way they could both profit equally, and that sort." Mrs. Montaielli responded.

"Of course, it would be only the most intelligent choice. I am so happy to have you here and I hope that the proposition would be taken by Mr. Malfoy, for your sake and mine."

Mrs. Montaielli smiled knowingly and dropped another lump of sugar into her tea. Claire stirred hers around and took a full drink. The tea trickled down the side of her mouth and Georgiana pretended to have heard something and looked away at the stair case. Her mother gave her a condescending glance and she quickly wiped it away.

A door was opened and the two men walked into the parlor shaking hands. Georgiana admired the smile upon her husband's face; it was bright and so happy…

"Thank you once again Draco for such a wonderful idea and agreement. I do hope we shall be seeing each other again soon!" Mr. Montaielli said as he took the hand of his wife.

"As do I, Raphael." Mr. Malfoy replied as he rested his hand on Claire's shoulder.

A very unattractive expression morphed Mrs. Montaielli's features and Georgiana held tightly to her spoon. Mr. Montaielli seemed a bit uncomfortable, but allowed himself to be led out of the house by Mr. Malfoy. Claire remained seated and looked down at her tea.

"Good night," Mr. Malfoy said to the Montaielli's before closing the door and walking back to the women. "I shall be in my study. I hope you find things to your liking Claire."

He spared not even a glance to Georgiana as he exited. She dropped the spoon into her tea cup, Claire jumping at the sound. Tea splashed over the toile cloths and was absorbed into the fabric.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Claire asked, her soft, meek voice only whisper in the still air.

She looked up and smiled ever so slightly before refolding the napkin in her lap.

"Please, call me Georgiana."

A blush rose to Claire's face at her friendliness and she nodded her head.

"Yes, Mrs.— Georgiana." Claire replied.

It was silent in the parlor as the two women continued to drink tea.

Night approached quickly, and Georgiana made her usual rounds. She stopped by the kitchen to indulge in a few small chocolates before gliding across the entry and up the stairs. She stepped quietly across the hall and saw that the door to their room was closed. She turned around and walked back down the steps. The guest bedroom was open and her nightwear was folded neatly atop the maple dresser.


	6. Chapter 6: Lamentations

Chapter 6: Lamentations

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The rich, beautiful colors of autumn outside were reflected magnificently in her painting. She made gentle brushstrokes of the leaves and clouds. It was a perfect replica of the scene beyond the window. She placed her brush in the cup of water beside her when she heard the distinct clicking of his shoes down the corridor. He was fastening together his cuff links and she waited calmly for him to address her.

"I will be off on a business trip for three days. My parents are out as well and I should hope that you can manage by yourself." he said while readjusting one of the links.

"You need not even worry about me." she replied.

"Excellent." he said, not a trace of praise or happiness evident in his voice.

He checked his watch and walked to the door, his things already being loaded into the carriage awaiting him. His coat was placed over him and he departed, leaving her alone.

She closed her eyes, her bottom lip trembling, and felt the warm tears burn in her eyes.

The door was left unlocked and she opened it carefully, hesitant of what was inside. He was gone, but she had never been allowed in the room without his presence. It smelled faintly of spirits and pine leaves. She walked into his study and examined every minute detail of all its contents. There were books, some new, others not.

Coming up to his desk, she touched a few of the items placed upon it. Pulling out the leather chair, she sat down and imagined being Mr. Malfoy. She opened his drawers, finding only papers and old documents, then closed them. This was incorrect, and she almost stood up to leave. Almost…

She opened a square velvet box hidden beneath piles of notes and writings. Inside, a small key glowed softly. She picked up the key and held on her palm. She was wrapped in cocoon of light and she felt herself lifted from the chair.

The room was filled with peaceful sunlight. Dust moats were floating in the brightness. She was no longer in his study, but a new room completely. The walls were decorated with silver and green articles of clothing, old pictures, and a black broomstick with silver hardware was perched upon a wall mount. There was a low, oak bookshelf that was full of old textbooks and photo albums. _Hogwarts, A History_... _Advanced Potions_… _Yule Ball_… _Quidditch_…

In front of the window there was a small desk. She placed the key down. There were no drawers and it had only a frame and box resting on it. The frame contained a moving picture of Mr. Malfoy as a youth, still charming, and blonde girl who seemed to be naturally adept at smiling. She removed the back and written on the photo, in his elegant script, were a few words.

_Last day of school, Hogwarts, 7__th__ year._

She replaced the backing and set the frame down in its place. The box was well worn and contained a silver and green scarf, a ring, and a folded note. Unraveling the scarf, she smelled a pleasing blend of lilac and honey. She tossed it aside. The ring was small and made of silver with a lovely emerald set in the middle… Nothing at all like her wedding band. She placed the ring down gently and began to unfold the note. The writing was curvy and flowed neatly across the parchment.

_I will always love you, no matter what happens tomorrow._

_A._

A small tear trickled down her cheek and she put away all of the box's contents. She was ready to leave here. She picked up the golden key and squeezed it in her fist. The dark, cold atmosphere of his study was once again around her. She tucked the key away in its box and hid it underneath the papers, closing the door softly behind her.

She sat down in her seat on the right end of the dining table and asked that a bottle of scotch be brought to her. She served herself a modest amount and sipped leisurely, enjoying the flavor. She thought of the man she had married… He did not even love her… She had given away so much for the Malfoy name... It's prestige… notoriety… The life she was condemned to live and the standard she was to uphold. She poured another glass, this time filling it to the brim. She thought of the blonde youth in the photo. The life she used to live. She had tried so long to convince herself she actually loved him too… She served herself another glass… and another, and another, and another, until she had drowned all her sorrows into one bottle.


	7. Chapter 7: Splintering

Chapter 7: Splintering

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"Stop fanning yourself, its distracting." he said as he turned a page in his newspaper.

She rolled her eyes and snapped the fan close. She almost caught herself for such a rude action. He seemed to take no notice of it. The blonde girl's face was still fresh in her mind and she opened the fan slightly.

"It is terribly warm in here, wouldn't you agree?" she replied. She opened the fan a little more, hesitant in her actions, and continued fanning herself.

The newspaper ruffled and he was staring at her from above the edge. She could see his expression from the corner of her eye and her fanning slowed. He was not going to repeat himself.

She closed the fan softly and tucked it inside her skirt. Her legs were itching to stand.

"I would like to take a walk in the gardens." she asked suddenly, her politeness slipping.

"You may go." he responded, allowing her to rise and leave the room.

She pretended to have forgotten her curtsy.

It blisteringly hot outside and her fan moved back and forth rapidly. The weight of her dress did nothing to help her but she could not sacrifice fashion for measly comfort. Her dress was new and of the latest summer trend. She was impatiently waiting for the coolness of fall. She could barely admire any bit of the garden's beauty. Passing by a large collection of rose bushes, she picked one off a rebellious branch that had missed the gardener's trimming. It was pure white and just beginning to display its loveliness. These were the same ones used in their wedding. She tore the head from its stem and threw it on the ground. She made a point to crush its petals beneath her heel as she continued walking.

Her stomach was unable to be calmed as she entered the manor. Her nerves were piling themselves high in her throat. What if her rudeness was too apparent? Had he become angered by it? She had acted so foolishly! But, she could not forget what she had seen. She walked briskly into the parlor where he was finishing his paper and stood by the entrance, the window's light bouncing off the small beads of perspiration she had accumulated outside. He did not acknowledge her presence whatsoever. Her words stumbled out before she could catch hold of them.

"I was hoping you would join me for lunch today, Draco." she said as sweetly as she could, an enthused smile gracing her features.

He slapped the newspaper down on his legs and looked up at her.

"What did you call me?" he asked, his voice low and yet surprised.

"Draco; that is your name, isn't it?" she responded cheekily. She could feel the dangerous waters rising. First, she had been most unladylike and disrespectful. Now, she addressed him by his given name. There was something wrong with her today.

He stared at her for a few moments before raising his paper once again.

"When I finish reading this last page." he replied.

She smiled confidently to herself and made her way to the dining hall where food was already being set out.


	8. Chapter 8: Replica

Chapter 8: Replica

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She swished the libation around in her cup and watched as the liquid fell and then rose in a lovely arch, barely skimming the rim of the glass. It was a deep claret and very sweet. She could feel his eyes on her and she carefully thought of trivial matters as he picked his way through her mind. This wine was very good...

"You are very quiet today." he commented from the other end of the table, her brows rising slightly at his observation.

"Yes well, there is not much to say as of late." she responded apathetically to his mumble.

"Well, that is quite unfortunate." he said, making only the smallest effort to engage in civil conversation.

"So it seems, darling." she replied smoothly over her glass of wine.

Sighing, he waved his hand lazily and the food disappeared. The wine glass vanished and she clenched her fist. She sat there, piqued, and raised her head slightly. It was very unlike her and she peered over at him with a face of annoyance. Her mother would have her head if she saw the insolent behavior her daughter had taken upon. He smiled cheekily and the wine glass reappeared. Her eyes flickered with astonishment and she raised the glass timidly. He never smiled at her.

"You are excused." he said calmly before making a glass of wine appear for himself.

She stood and strode elegantly from the room, her trail floating delicately above the hardwood. Her stomach groaned in protest at her dismissal; she hadn't eaten a bite, but at least she had the wine. She walked upstairs and drank what was left of her wine. She boorishly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stopped when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

Her hair was artfully piled into a neat bun and she was dressed in the finest clothes of the season. Though simple, her jewelry was pleasing to the eye and glinted brightly with the afternoon sun. She smiled delicately at the face in the mirror. Her smile appeared so insincere, as if the original had been replaced. It looked the same as all the smiles she had ever been given. _How pleasant to meet you… Oh yes, how splendid… How wonderful…_ The wine seeped into the lace on her sleeve and left behind it a dark, irremovable stain. She closed her eyes and shut close the window drapes, erasing the appearance of the strange woman in the glass.


	9. Chapter 9: Loneliness

Chapter 9: Loneliness

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"Would you like to go shopping today?" he asked her politely from the other end, sipping his tea calmly.

She looked up in surprise from her blueberry tart and cleared her throat.

"Of course, where would you like to go?" she managed to say after a few moments of silence.

"No, I won't be joining you. I have work that needs to be done, take one of your friends." he said disinterestedly over his tea. He smoothed the tablecloth where the elves had missed a spot with the iron.

"Not a problem, dear, I am sure I could find an escort." she responded, masking her disappointment and sprinkling sugar over the remainder of her tart.

"Yes well, I need to be off. I shall see you later." he said as he stood and picked up his newspaper.

He was a few feet from the door before he strode over to her, smiling gently. He bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek, then exited swiftly. She raised her hand to where his lips had touched her skin and she smiled happily. Perhaps her change in character was for the better.

She smiled kindly to the women in the carriage before stepping off. Though it was nearly dark, the shopping trip had not lasted as long as she had expected. Time seemed to move faster in the autumn. The house elf beside her carried her few bags, not having been in the mood to shop, and opened the door. She handed her coat to the elf and watched as it was hung next to Draco's. She smiled and walked into the parlor, stepping out of her heels. She looked out into the balcony off the parlor and swiftly hid herself behind the door when she realized she was not alone.

His bright smile sparkled in the moonlight and the woman's face reflected his elation. Her blonde hair seemed to glimmer and she laughed when he whispered a joke in her ear. There was a loving twinkle in his eye as he kissed her softly, a warm tenderness in his hands as he held hers. Georgiana stepped slowly away from the door; her fragile, paper heart cut to pieces, and allowed the stinging tears to burn behind her lids.


	10. Chapter 10: Assistance

Chapter 10:

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She winced as the laces were tightened once again and her breath became shallower. The elves struggled against the force before finally tying them into a neat bow at the base of her spine. She turned slowly; scrutinizing every inch of her body and assuring herself that the work was impeccably done. She finally faced the mirror again and narrowed her eyes at her reflection.

"Tighter." she said to them as she opened her small fan.

He was already sitting at the table with his newspaper covering his face. She did not wait for him; walking in and seating herself. He lowered the paper to look up at her and she ignored him; dropping cubes of sugar into her tea and stirring in milk. He cleared his throat audibly and she looked up then, placing her spoon on the china saucer.

"You look lovely today, Gi." he commented with his gentle smile. The one he reserved for women in which he was minutely interested.

"How wonderful of you to notice." she replied derisively and lifted the tea to her mouth.

If he had heard, he must have pretended not to have for he simply lifted the newspaper once again. Perhaps now she knew the true reason as to why he was kinder on certain days. She was dressed in this season's best and her hair was brushed neatly into a bun with delicate tumbling over her shoulders. She had chosen her finest powder and her lips were painted a deep red.

"Are you planning on leaving the manor?" he asked casually from the other end, only faintly aware of her appearance. She recognized the slight interest in his voice; he was leaving someplace as well.

"Yes, I am going to visit an old friend." she said looking up at him.

She floated across the burnished marble floor of the Ministry. The eyes in the room were all directed to her figure, the hourglass silhouette accentuated by a lofty pair of heels. Walking past the aged receptionist without a glance, she entered the elevator and pressed the button to his floor. She waited impatiently, her foot tapping rudely on the floor until the elevator came to a torpid halt. His office was surprisingly empty and his secretary merely nodded her in, having already been informed of her visit. She opened the door and allowed herself in before closing it with a soft click.

"I need you to help me." she said meekly, feeling a tad bit confined in his humbly proportioned office. She realized then that she had completely buried her manners and was about to apologize.

"Georgiana, its been a long time." he replied casually, his boyish smile lighting an old spark of whimsy in her.

"Hello Harry."


	11. Chapter 11: Time

Chapter 11

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She held the small object in her hand, feeling its sharp contours and smooth, reflective center. She lifted the leather journal from beside her, her fingers leaving a streak of clean upon the dusty surface. Taking a sip of her brandy, she flipped open to a random page. _September 23__rd__. _No, that was too late. She turned the pages rapidly to an earlier date. _March 8__th__. _Perfect. She centered the time turner on her palm, its coolness tingling, and eyed to the date in which she would move the dial.

There was a loud creak as the entrance doors were opened, a familiar clicking thereafter. She quickly hid the turner in the secret pocket in her dress and stowed the journal into a fold in her skirt. The newspaper and a pen were procured in front her from a figure hidden in the shadow of a corner. She turned the page and began filling the crossword arbitrarily as he appeared in the doorway.

"Hello, Gi." he said as he took his seat on the opposite end of the table.

"Hello, Malfoy." she replied, reading a numbered statement and scribbling 'chocolate frog' in the corresponding spaces.

"How was your excursion? Was she in good health?"

"Elizabeth is doing quite well. Their child, Anabelle, is turning three next month." she said, her lie smoothing the distance of the table.

"We shall have to send a gift. But tell me, how are you?" he asked as he waved his hand, a small glass of fire whiskey appearing.

She halted the laugh in her throat and blinked repeatedly to focus her thoughts. She could feel his probing become more inquisitive as the atmosphere of her mind shifted.

"Splendid, dear, why ever would you ask?" she responded, her voice balanced in the quiet space.

He shrugged and waved his hand flippantly, her glass vanishing from beside her. Her eyes widened when it materialized before him. He lifted the glass and inhaled calmly above the rim.

"I was only curious; I did not realize you enjoyed strong liquors." he said, grinning slightly. The brandy disappeared and a glass of fire whiskey appeared before her. "Please, drink with me."

She watched him raise his glass before downing the entire glass in one turn. He lowered it and gazed at her expectantly. She lifted the glass warily, shifting her sight from it to him. Finally, she took a sip and grimaced at the revolting taste. It's name gave justice to it's flavor; her eyes watered at the inferno that burned all down her esophagus. He grinned and filled his glass magically once again.

"I'm waiting for you, Georgiana." he said, his small grin taking its typical wryly appearance. He was mocking her. The boiling anger within her grew with untamable force before bursting through the surface.

Her hand whipped out and the glass flew to the wall, shattering upon impact. The microscopic shards were suspended in the air; light dancing upon the glass in a rainbow. Malfoy's piercing stare was not interrupted by the specks before them and she could feel its burn. Her breathing was forceful and she stood up, exiting the room with a furious step; the journal, thankfully, caught between her skirts. It was only as she made the last step of the staircase that the symphony of falling glass finally played. She walked briskly through the hallway as the door to his study slammed close.


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